


Results are built on labour

by yellowhalcyon



Series: Only The Deathless Will Outlive The Sith [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, sniperpilot, spiritassassin, thou shall have smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowhalcyon/pseuds/yellowhalcyon
Summary: Jyn Erso is a criminal and also the daughter of an infamous First Order scientist, so spends her time jumping under name after name. With little luxury for a political opinion, she adapts to the new governing powers that sweep her country while desperately hoping no one figures out who she really is.Cassian Andor serves as a Captain in the hidden Resistance of his country. Eagar to serve and willing to do anything in the name of freedom, missions often put for him on the road for months at a time. At least, he’s got a freshly un-brainwashed and very sarcastic, quadriplegic best friend to keep him company.Chirrut Îmwe, after failing a vow and being rejected from the Jedi Order, still finds the Force speaking to him in no way different than from before. With the help and semi-reluctant protection of his life partner, Baze Malbus, together they plan to pave their own path as a different shade of Jedi.Bodhi Rook leaves behind the security of a dead end First Order job running deliveries around the country and chooses to do the bravest thing he may ever possibly do. By safekeeping the message of a kind and lonely man, he will kick start something far beyond his or anyone else’s comprehension.





	1. Jyn Erso

**Author's Note:**

> Under the crippling royal family, what the First Order lacks is a weapon of mass destruction. But getting what they want will come at cost and bring forth much resistance. [it wouldn't let me fit this into the summary box :(]
> 
> Here, have [this](http://yellowhalcyon.tumblr.com/post/155965638369/results-are-built-on-labour-dystopian-society) and [this](http://yellowhalcyon.tumblr.com/post/158904919959/character-aesthetics-mcu-x-star-wars-au)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jyn’s outfit is based on [this](http://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/27/9c/86/279c86e9ee2bb34c89fb9f0017ecdbbd--star-wars-concept-art-character-concept-art.jpg) but with a combination of her canon jacket from the film.

The word _family_ was slowly beginning to mean less and less to Jyn as the days went by. She couldn’t even remember the face of her own mother anymore. Her blood mother at least. Although, truly, Saw and Steela did not count as parents since parents did not abandon you if they could help it. Jyn’s blood parents were stolen from her when she was only nine years old and helpless to do nothing but watch her mother get shot and her father be taken by the man they’d been running from, at the time, for the past three years.

Seven years later, her guardian parents, Saw and Steela Gerrera, left her during a thunderstorm in a closed-off train station to hide until the morning, with just a knife and loaded blaster. In the morning, she failed to find them again.

Jyn kept the blaster long after it ran out of bullets. A small tatty trophy in her makeshift hole of a home to remind her of what they had done. And if they ever chose to return, on the off chance, that she needed to tell them exactly where to go. Because, like the bullets in the blaster, their care and love had run out now – her seventeen year old self used to chant, every time she laid eyes on it.

Her twenty one year old self eyed it now when she entered her shitty three year old hole of a home. Jyn put her bag down on the bed, since it took up most of the floor, and crowded up to the far wall. She carefully pried back the metal covering there, as so not to disturb the current contents inside the wall’s shell, and then had to awkwardly pull her bag to her side. Why she hadn’t put it near herself to begin with, Jyn wondered during the fumbling reach. Once near enough, taking out the piles and piles of newspapers, she eventually found the one material she was looking for: a large square of soft, absorbent padding she’d nicked from an unobserved skip deep into the city centre. It turned out to be the perfect shape to cover the hole at the bottom corner of her current home’s shell, the draft of which had been driving her slowly made for the past few days now.

Ever since some stupid kid kept kicking their ball against her house, a week back, and managed to dent the outer material – while also making the whole room shake, Jyn had got to wake up abruptly to that part. Sometimes it turned out to be a curse to make her home out of an abandoned building’s house pantry, who would have thought it?

Often her neighbours left her alone, so there was still that. Although something told her this kid hadn’t been a local. At least their dent left stuck up pieces of metal to stab the padding onto, securing it in place. She saw her true neighbours only occasionally, but always made sure to give them scornful looks so they would think twice about interacting with her.

Jyn’s hands felt sticky after she finished applying the padding, possibly some gooey residue had been at the bottom of the shell by the hole or either absorbed by the padding itself. Regardless, it didn’t smell pleasant whatever it was and made her finger stick together vertically. She searched in her bag for her cloth, but it couldn’t get the goo off.

Signing, Jyn stood up. She would need some water. She flung her gloves off. Her head just about skimmed the top of her home and dipped where it came to the door, meaning she had to bend down every time to get out.

Upon arriving here and founding this place as her home, Jyn had created a large and securable door to lock her things behind and _her space_. Since her training with the Gerreras, she continued to be determined to fight for anything she had and that included the four-by-three square metres of space she tenaciously called home. Jyn pulled that door shut now and locked it shut with the padlock she kept hidden in her bra sometimes. A combination one, because keys were losable and one couldn’t guess a code if they never learnt about the person who chose it. The door itself was created with equal weight, so no point anywhere on the structure should have been weaker than any other. But the scowls and dirty looks were meant to stop people from trying to find out.

Along with her gloves she had left her bag inside, right now she just needed some water to wash her hands. Jyn exited what still stood as part of the old pantry’s house, almost completely unoccupied at current time apart from the kitchen, and walked out and down to the bottom of the building complex her ex-pantry home was attached to. Outside, the sun was shining strong for the pale autumn air.

Jyn basked in the sunlight for a moment and breathed in. For a moment, the world stopped spinning and the wind stilled and the earth took in its daily nourishment for the growth and strength of the time ahead. For a moment, things were peaceful.

Then the stale, dustier air crept into her nostrils and a cloud began to drift over the sun. Sharp cold bit at her sides, despite the winter far on the horizon, as Jyn walked the muddy and sunken path to the local bike shed. Its sides lay in juxtaposition to the centre, overgrown with weeds and nettles. Upon viewing it, the plant still made her wince from when she’d fallen into a bush, during her first month alone after the Gerreras. The pain from the stings meant she cried for the first time since her mother had died seven whole years earlier and she hated the plant so much for that afterwards. But like all the negativity in her life, Jyn used it to make her stronger. She learnt to be just as sharp at the furry nettles and just as impactful as their infuriating, tiny hairs.

On her body, she wore clothes she’d stolen herself; she’d never been much of seamstress. Jyn had never been good at making things in general, or maintaining anything for that matter. But she could take things, she could survive. She wore one-size-too-big trouser made from a rough fabric that wasn’t denim. Tucked into this, she had on a white long sleeved shirt with the sleeves made from a darker grey colour, starting at the shoulders. The boots were typical thick walking boots. On her hands, fingerless gloves to keep good grip with her hands. Straps hung from her belt to disguise her fighting stick as an overly large com device. From there, she could wear her dark jacket and light brown body warmer, or just one of them. As she did today with her body warmer, allowing her to roll up her sleeves for better body ventilation.

Her warm brown hair remained in its usually style of a simple bun just above her nape, with short sections at the sides of her face, which at first glance would make it look like she has her hair loose. She’d seen it was the fashion in the city and thought it might make her stand out less in a crowd.

With a great effort, she swung the door to the bike shed open. Her bike remained in the corner where she’d left it. No one touched her stuff anymore. Partly from her strength in training, but mainly because she painted everything she owned with the symbol the Gerreras gave her: a phoenix rising from around its wings of fire, the symbol of the Rebellion and a group that bothered the strongest right-wing political party in the country right now. When the government let them get away with anything they wanted, no one wanted that kind of attention from the First Order. But political opinion was not something she had a luxury of divulging into these days. As long as she hid her symbols out of sight of their prying eyes and behaved herself on the public streets, no Stormtrooper bothered her in turn.

Jyn picked the bike’s key from her shoe and slipped onto the bike to start the engine. Carefully she wheeled it outside with a couple clumsy shuffles of her feet. Once out, she checked the fuel gauge, revved the handle, and spend off down to the river.

That small stream remained the only untainted source of water in the whole area. Only if you travelled deep into town and borrowed a nearby pump could you get clean water anywhere else. However, the centre of town was too far away for the water required so many stuck to the river and stored up the extra water in their homes. Illegal, but then again no one checked on the poor to not break the rules since those checking didn’t want to go near them. _They thought we had a sickness, that we were a sickness_ , Jyn thought, the breeze against her face whilst she rode down towards the bank of the river, _as if you could catch our penny-less lives like cholera or mumps_.

Jyn parked the bike by the side and approached the river gently. When it’s the only thing giving you life you treat said thing with the greatest respect. Jyn didn’t believe in much but she could understand the notion of praying to the water to receive well from the water. Plus when she took their hopes and fears seriously, it meant people didn’t bother her. Kneeling on the cool, wet edge, she outreached her hands and slowly sunk them into the moving stream.

At first Jyn simply watched her hands under the tiny waves, admiring how the liquid distorted the vision of her body parts. Then she started to wiggle them around to resurface her hands and wipe away the gooey residue off each one. Finished there, she took a wet clothes to the handlebars of her bike.

Finally rid of whatever that gooey substance was, Jyn began her journey back to her hole. Along the way she passed the house of Mr. Hadder and suddenly the sympathy scratched at the back of her neck until she pulled her bike to a stop.

Jyn huffed. She swung her leg back over the side and parked the bike inside his short, white gate. The wood of which groaned under the weight of her old bike just as much as the engine did, when she rode it for too long. She made her way into the building like she’d been told to do, with the key hidden in the highest hanging pot above her, and began a few quick checks of Mr. Hadder’s essentials.

Before doing anything, however, Jyn searched out and found his latest cigarette packet, which she stuffed into the hidden pocket inside her body warmer.

His fridge was full. She checked the milk and bread to make sure if they hadn’t gone off. No. Breaking the silence of the home, his dog appeared happy and fed, bouncing around her feet no matter how many times she shunned it away. Gently she opened the storage cupboard at the back, remembering its squeaky hinge, for whether the dog meat stash was running low. No. So far everything seemed to be clear.

Mr. Hadder lived on this property with his own credits, so he could afford others to help do the home deliveries his old body struggled to keep up with now and again. However, occasionally their effort and his intake didn’t match up and he ran out of things before he would get the refills.

And speaking of such, out in the back yard, his water stood barely one thirds full. She popped up the lid and peered inside at the far away water, briefly reflecting her image in a circle of white light on the shifting liquid. If she remembered correctly his next check wouldn’t be until sometime next week. He would certainly run out of water by then, or come close to it.

She knew exactly why she helped this man. It was because with the prominent dark circles under his eyes, short cut hair, and dusty voice, he reminded Jyn of her father. She hated that factor. But Jyn hated a lot of things.

She found the bucket in its usual spot in his back yard shed and brought it back into the house to take it to her bike, out front. Inside, Jyn discovered Mr. Hadder, drowsy, in his dress gown and stained wooden walking-stick; he’d obviously come out of his bedroom to check where all the noise was coming from.

Eyes half-squinted in sleepy effort, he looked her up and down. ‘Tanith,’ he said, features already warming to her presence. ‘Why are you here today?’ Like herself, Mr. Hadder disliked a lot of things in his life, except his dog, his main carer, and Jyn.

That name still managed to make her internal cringe. But it was needed to keep her hidden from the people who hurt her family, whether the concept worked or not. She went by a lot of names these days other than Jyn Erso.

‘I can see your tank is running low,’ she said. ‘I know you are in need of water.’

Mr. Hadder touched her arm. ‘Thank you. My dear, you are too kind to my old bones.’

‘It’s nothing, really,’ Jyn said, shrugging. Although the amount of times she’d heard him scream at the kids who dared to even go near his front garden, let alone drop their balls or toys on it, having him compliment her with such a genuine tone, pleased Jyn somewhat. She couldn’t help it, she felt smug.

‘Ms. Ponta,’ Mr. Hadder spoke as she made her way to the front door, ‘please let me return the favour and have you sleep on my sofa tonight.’

Jyn paused, fingers around the handle. ‘Thank you,’ she said sternly. ‘But I’m good.’

‘Your spine says otherwise,’ and the point of Mr. Hadder’s walking-stick came up to abruptly stab her on the base of the back.

Jyn jolted at the attack and took a moment to collect herself. ‘Well, my spine has been known to lie a lot these days,’ she said and, turning slightly, shoved his stick back down again. Mr. Hadder puffed the air from his cheek, disapproving, as she slipped outside.

After a moment of contemplation, Jyn took the bucket back to the river without her bike, since there would be nowhere to balance it once it was full of water, and attempted to refill Mr. Hadder’s tank to at least half way. The work very quickly became tiring, so by the time Jyn returned with the fifth and, as decided, final heavy bucket of water, she was panting and out of breath.

Mr. Hadder chuckled from his back door whilst Jyn finished off the last refill and she wouldn’t have expected any less. ‘There, that’s all your getting,’ she said in a try to regain her dignity.

Mr. Hadder smiled when she passed him at the door. ‘I shall have to make do then?’ he said.

Jyn ignored him and went straight to the sink to wash the bucket’s outside. When it got too heavy to handle, she’d always just drop the bucket down on the nearest patch of ground. It saved her back and arm ache but often lead to lots of mud smudging the bottom and up the sides. After cleaning, Jyn returned the bucket to its location in the back yard shed.

She lingered inside the shed, however, since she knew the second she went back into the house, Mr. Hadder would be there and he would insist she stay the night and Jyn had told herself she wouldn’t do that anymore. She only helped this man for herself, because it made _her_ feel good, she told herself. When he left her, like her parents and the Gerreras before him, Jyn would merely find someone else to fill in the hole because that’s all he was to her. A something to fill in the hole left behind by so many others. That’s all he was to her, nothing more.

Jyn kept that sentence spinning around in her head as she finally headed back into the house. At first thought, it appeared Mr. Hadder had returned to his bedroom and she figured she could maybe slip out unseen. But the second her foot put weight on that floorboard that always creaked two foot from the front door, he emerged from the other entrance to the living room. It resided adjacent to the front door, so he now stood between Jyn and freedom.

Jyn froze the second he stepped in front of her, like a child caught playing make-believe.

‘Tanith, please,’ he said, old features drooping.

It helped that wasn’t her real name. ‘I’m grateful for the offer, Mr. Hadder, but I can’t stay tonight—’

‘I’ve told you to call me by my first name.’

 ‘—I know, Mr. Hadder.’ She forced a small smile. ‘But I really must go.’ Jyn gave him a moment to fully process her statement and then darted for the door before more could be said.

At first, Jyn used to picture horrible things happening to Mr. Hadder when no one else would be there to help him and see if she felt anything about that. Yet regardless of how long she waited, she always felt remorse and pain over such things and, the next day, she always returned to his door.

It was raining later on. Jyn laid awake listening to the tap tap taping on her hole’s outer shell. Her head remained fixed to the pillow while her eyes darted up to the ceiling in small child-like wonder. It did not affect her however long she decided to stay up for, she had nothing to do tomorrow. Plus the repeated, calming sound helped to clear her head. Jyn listened for hours, until her brain made her eyes close and she fell asleep.

Whatever time Jyn awoke the next day, she got dressed, packed up her bag and headed out of the door as soon as possible.

The sun shone pretty high in the sky above her. She had to reach her neck right back to be able to see it so that meant it was sometime around the afternoon. To be honest, Jyn only ever saw the time when she visited Mr. Hadder. He owned the only clock she’d ever seen in years. Back when she would let herself stay around his house, she loved to watch it tick-tock away in the early hours of the morning, long before Mr. Hadder himself would be waking up.

Unlike the day before, it appeared cool enough for her to wear her dark jacket as well. She preferred to wear her jacket while going into the city, made it easier to hide things under.

Jyn quickly found her bike and, starting up the engine, headed into the town centre again. Now without the mission for that specific padding to go onto the hole’s wall, she could focus on finding other stuffing for her hole and, more importantly, some food. Her stomach grumbled loud enough she heard it over the dusty bike engine’s roar. Perhaps she should have swapped Mr. Hadder’s offer to stay the night for a descent meal.

Once within the city’s main streets, Jyn disappeared into a back alley and immediately hid her bike. She wrapped her scarf around her hair and tossed one end over the bottom half of her face. This was to hide her identity but she wore the same clothes all the time and there were other ways to find a thief. She knew this, yet the scarf added a layer of confidence security. And no one ever really learnt how to steal things, they just managed well to get away with it each time.

The smell of the city would be something she’d never get used to. In the background, no matter where you were, there always lingered a foul stench of the sewers. The roads were cleans and the houses properly piped, but the sewers were hot so their smell rose out of the gutters and floated in the streets above. Jyn supposed if you lived here long enough you could get used to it. But dipping in and out of the city to the suburbs, meant she never stayed long enough. She swore it sometimes even made her clothes smell and that had her freezing in her small hole until her nostrils grew accustomed to the light stench.

Luckily, it was market day, which meant the smell of the sewers could be somewhat masked by the smells of the various stools. The ones containing either food or perfume smelled the strongest. Jyn zipped in between them all, eyeing which ones she thought of going for.

Within the first hour, she took two fresh bread roles, several preserved food pouches – they were so easy to slip up her sleeve – and a nice, plump, red apple that made her smile because only five stalls later, someone was already calling thief and as the police stumbled past, she realised no one would be able to trace it back to her now. Jyn noticed a small child incidentally watching her, lace gloved hand clutched in her father’s while chaos began to erupt around them.

Animated, Jyn took the apple from her bag, tossed it into the air once and then bit into it while keeping direct eye contact. It took the kid a moment to link the words ‘apple thief!’ with Jyn’s actions but when she did, she appeared abruptly aghast. It always tickled her to get a chance to stir up the local rich folk.

Jyn didn’t stop until she’d gathered enough food for the whole month. Market day made it that easy. Plus once Jyn got into flow, she often couldn’t help herself until her jacket was stuffed.

In the tenth market square, a young homeless man sat by one of the far walls, his missing legs sticking out as tiny clothed stubs. Jyn recognised the technique of gulling the higher ups to feel pity you and give you money to relieve their guilt. But this man needed more than credits. She couldn’t provide him with legs or enough credits to buy some legs. But she could get him some pain relief from what was left.

She delved into the nearest pharmaceutical shop. This would be a tricky steal since pills rattled against the glass of their bottles. She needed a distraction. Remembering her training, she nipped a tube of creams from the array on the nearest shelf and began absentmindedly reading it whilst wondering the shop. It only took a specific person to stand by the pain killer section for Jyn to walk past and then conveniently bump into them. That she did when a man sauntered past in a sharp suit and too much step in his gait.

Jyn made it quick.

They both ended up on the floor along with several bottles and tubes. The commotion immediately silenced the shop. However, in his attempts to stop an _inferior life form_ like her from touching him any longer than necessary, he shoved her shoulders on automatic, she landed awkwardly, and this man’s vertical foot ended up being there to soften the landing of her stomach.

‘Ofph!’ The blow gave a violent shock to her system and threw Jyn’s whole objective off balance for a moment.

Clutched over in pain and trying not to vomit, it took her time to process him talking, ‘ _get off me_!’ Conveniently, the man then shoved her back into the pain killer section.

She had just enough will-power to ignore the pain and reach back for a bottle, making it look like she was just getting her balance.

‘Are you blind, you stupid bitch?’ the man said, standing up and dusting down his suit. ‘How could you be so inconsiderate or are you really that fucking obtuse? Answer me, bitch.’

Jyn resisted the urge to smile and got up calmly. As predicted he continued to shout petty lies at her whilst she finished her walk out the shop, easily hiding the rattle of pills clutched to her stomach. At least his hit gave her an excuse to crowd her hands over her stomach.

Normally she would wait a while to avoid drawing suspicious to herself, but she went straight over to the legless man and planted the bottle by the nearest stump. He snatched up the bottle, knowing exactly what it was. ‘Oh you’re too kind, my dear,’ he said, too desperately, ‘too kind. Thank you.’

His speech faulted when he glanced up at her pained face, revealed by the loose scarf, and tussled hair. ‘Don’t ask,’ Jyn said, hand still barely around her stomach, ‘just take them one at a time.’

‘Thank you, _thank you_ ,’ the man continued and Jyn walked off. Her appetite for thievery cut short by stomach ache.

That man’s foot had slipped right past her layers of food patches so she’d taken the full blow. Skipping the rest of her food hunt, she headed right to her last stop in the city. A large clothing super shop would be doing their monthly restock and that meant their throw outs would be higher than usual. Arriving Jyn found the usual gaggle of scavengers and thieves such as herself.

Scavengers were allowed by the city since they helped to recycle the few leftovers from the shops so every last piece could be used. They made use of whatever they took for their own businesses, on the promise that they sold everything at second-hand price to void them from gaining profit through the money they hadn’t given to the original product producers. But, on the other hand, thieves only took for themselves and so she knew how to recognise her own.

The biggest sign was that just the thieves had weapons. Jyn appeared to be the only one without a blaster. She left most of the bulk to the others, what she wanted was the heavy coats that happened to be at the bottom of the pile.

Jyn almost fell into the large bin twice, leaning her too short body over the side to get at the coats on the bottom. The thing was she had to lean via her hips because she couldn’t afford to put pressure on her now delicate stomach and that led to her often losing her footing as most of the bins stood taller than her legs did. When the others laughed her way, she tried to ignore them, a fight best avoided was a fight best had. She got what she needed in the end, she just had to reach a little harder.

She pulled out two large thick coats and proceeded to rip them apart, much to the discomfort of those around her. That was what they got for laughing at her.

Jyn collect all the filling from inside the coats, bled them both completely dry and shoved the stuffing into her bag as quickly as possible. To anyone watching her, it would appear like she was in a rush and to be honest she kind of was. Other than that apple, she’d had nothing to eat today, so rather wished to get back as soon as possible and crack open a food pouch or two.

When the coats were lying lifeless on the floor, Jyn contemplated grabbing another but a rumble from her stomach sealed the deal. She decided against it. There would always be tomorrow. Although, it remained hard to tell the hunger over her stomach pains.

Her bike remained exactly where she left it. The blanket still on this time, no one had found it and then chosen not to steal it because of the large Rebellion symbol painted on the side. Jyn sped back to her hole.

Her other neighbour wasn’t in when she got back. Jyn disappeared into her hole and slammed the down shut behind her. She took her portable cooker from the homemade shelving and set it up in the corner, one of the few spots not covered by bed. Slipping the nearest food pouch from her sleeve, didn’t matter which one, she pulled it open and threw everything onto the pan on top. Meanwhile, she began to unpack her jacket and dump her food onto her bed.

Once fully unloaded, Jyn snacked on one of her loafs while sorting the pouches into date order. The smell of her food told her it was done. She considered taking her dish outside and since her neighbour currently wasn’t around, Jyn slid her door back open, locked it up, and went out onto the outside landing that lead to the stairs, that lead down to the bottom of her building.

In the sunset’s glow, she picked at her plate. The savoury mix of vegetables and meat didn’t match her appetite, but meals needed to be eaten for her body to keep going. Jyn used all her skills to hoard more food than she’d ever gotten under the Gerreras. However, she still cared little for food creativity.

The light felt soft on her skin. Jyn couldn’t help it, she thought of her father. She wondered if he was still alive, unlike her mother who she knew had died, when she watched it happen twelve years ago. He could still be out there, though, hoping for her safety or wishing for her death because it would be kinder than whatever the organisation he’d disappeared into wanted to do with her. Jyn knew they were the First Order. She learnt about them in her training days with the Gerreras. How could she not? They were partners with its enemy, the Rebellion. From the small knowledge that managed reach her areas of life now, she heard of this political party sweeping the nations with their speeches of hate and promises of dangerous action. And she recognised the small insignia she’d often saw on the cloak of her father’s commanding officer and project director.

From when she was born, her family had always worked for a scientific company funded by the beginnings of the First Order. Her father Galen Erso engulfed in his work, it was left to her mother Lyra to uncover the project director’s true goals for Galen’s work and, in turn, the First Order’s intent on what to do with that project, once it had been completed. Further than the science, Jyn didn’t really understand what her father had actually been doing at the time, but after they chose to run away, she knew it must have been something very important.

Three years later and the director found them, once more ordering her father to continue his work. The advantage of the work being secret from even the government itself meant the First Order couldn’t hunt them personally or else someone would notice. Neither could they go through the system and make up a lie to justify legal action.

No, unfortunately, the only way to hunt them had been physically through violence and death. The project director was given full reign to track down everyone Jyn’s family ever spoke to, to torture them for information, and then dispose of the bodies afterwards.

Her father was a terrible lair. When he approached the project director on his own and tried to play this threat against him, he failed to remember Lyra’s persistence and soon she appeared by his side brandishing a blaster. Jyn had been too far away to hear their words, but she saw the director’s hand raised, winced at the flash of red and watched her mother tumble into her father’s arms, lifeless. That day she’d committed director Orson Krennic’s old, pale pink face to memory before turning tale and running for her life.

Present day, Jyn pulled Mr. Hadder’s stolen cigarette packet from her pocket. He’d probably already bought another one buy now. This was only a waste. She had been tempted before to smoke one but they always left a horrible taste in her mouth. Jyn threw the packet away. She revelled in the way gravity tugged the packet straight down, pulling it onto a rock where it smashed open and spilt tiny white lines all over the muddy ground. It raised a small half smile and she returned to her hole, locking the door.

Jyn needed to find things, anything she could get her hands on, to stuff inside her hole’s shell. It often took several months to fill it up without drawing too much suspicious since all the items were, again, stolen. This was why she’d never been desperate to get a proper home because if she lost it later and ended up back in her old one, she would be disadvantaged that Winter. Additionally, she couldn’t just keep the same stuffing for each year because she relocated often, and the poor neighbourhoods available to steal a home in were infested, which mean some form of mould always got into the stuffing making it stink. Finally Jyn did try to keep it one year, but in the summer the stuffing turned her current residence into a furnace at night and she had to keep it closed for safety. This also meant she could only begin her search for stuffing after a certain time.

Jyn remained locked in a cycle of survival. She finally got Saw’s saying about how the poor stayed poor because they were trapped.

She stripped down to her vest and underwear, neatly folding her clothes more out of habit than necessity. On her back, Jyn spread out onto her mattress and stared up at her clad ceiling, hair loose and tangled. Then she reached over and flicked off her burner light. Engulfed in darkness, she listened to rattling outside world and let it drift her off to sleep.

A few nights later and her body ached as she awoke. The higher amount of light immediately told her she wasn’t in her hole. Jyn shoved herself up right from solid, firm ground as the smells of body odour and day old alcohol breath drifted into her brain for processing. Disgustingly, they lingered in the air like hot steam. A glance down and she’d slept on a flat, metal bench barely less than a foot of the floor, hence why her bones ached so.

She remembered now, she’d been put in the drunk tank after being caught sleeping on a park bench. Occasionally, time managed to slip away from her and she would hide herself away with the other homeless of the city, than bother to travel back to her hole. Jyn had decided it’d been better to play drunk than risk a fight after trying to run away. Especially since they didn’t search you that way and if she run they’d have known she had more stuffing to hide under her jacket. With nothing else to do once inside, she’d then promptly gone back to finish her sleep.

Jyn squinted to help her eyes adjust while trying to make out who resided beyond the cell bars. They boxed her in at two sides, with solid wall on the other two behind her. There didn’t appear to be more than three other members around her. She yawned and slipped her legs off the side, keeping a close eye on the figures just beyond. A window stood up at the side and she got up to approach it. There appeared to be some light outside so it wasn’t still night at least. Hopefully, it would be late enough for her to get released now.

She walked up to the bars and slowly the figures got up from their desk, caution bleeding into their features. They joined her by the cell bars.

‘I think I’m sobered up enough now,’ Jyn said, surprised by the tiredness of her voice.

‘Okay,’ one officer said and pulled the keys from his belt. He unlocked the cell door and guided Jyn out, taking her upstairs for the wonderful, pointless job of recording her information. This wasn’t her first time in the drunk tank so hopefully it would merely be the case of just putting a tick next to her previous record.

The officer went behind the front desk to collect the records book. He spread it out onto the surface before him and looked to Jyn. ‘Name?’

‘Uh, Tanith Ponta,’ Jyn said, carefully, ‘it should still be in the system,’ leaning up to help him search for her name. The sooner it was found the sooner she could be out of here.

He flicked a few pages back and there it was, right at the bottom. Relief washed through as he scribbled something down by it and Jyn began to relax. She’d be out of here in no time at all.

However, the Force chose a different path for her.

Another officer approached the first from behind the desk. She gave Jyn a quick glance and then leant over the man’s shoulder to find her name. ‘Wait, why are you putting her down with that name?’

‘Because that’s what she told me her name was,’ the first one said, like it was obvious.

It didn’t take long for Jyn to disappear in their presence.

The second officer frowned. ‘No, I’ve recorded her before and I’m sure her name wasn’t Tanith Ponta.’

 _Huh?_ Jyn thought. How could this be, she’d been using that name for the past three years now? Either way, it made her uncomfortable, staring up the two police officers.

She kept names to certain cities to make it easier to remember which one people would know her by. The second officer must have been a transfer from somewhere else. She stared at Jyn, something unfriendly in her gaze now. ‘It was back when I was stationed in Lothal. I think I remember what her real name is. Something like Liana... uh, Hallik. Liana Hallik. Yeah that was it, and certainly not Tanith Ponta.’

‘Okay, I gave a wrong name,’ Jyn said, playing guilty in a desperate attempt to save the situation. It could get her into more trouble than she’d like, but there remained a chance she would get out of here on the same day still. ‘What does that mean exactly? Just put Liana Hallik then.’ She pointed to the records book.

‘It’s not that simple, I’m afraid, Ms. Hallik,’ the second officer said, ‘we’ll have to keep you in for now to find out just exactly why you’ve given us a false name.’

‘Maybe I was embarrassed about being put in the drunk tank the first time and just happened to remember what I’d put this time around.’

‘ _Maybe_?’ the second officer raised an eyebrow, not liking that answer.

‘Still, I’m going to have to keep you,’ the first officer explained.

Jyn’s heart sunk. She shifted on her feet. ‘What’s gonna happen to me then?’

‘I think we should keep her in just to find out if Liana isn’t a fake name either,’ the second officer said to the first like Jyn wasn’t there at all again. Jyn didn’t like her.

That statement made her legs twitch; she wanted to run. They couldn’t find who she really was, it would be the easiest way for the First Order to discover her; she needed to make sure they didn’t discover her real name. She glanced down the corridor and wondered if whether she could make it. There didn’t appeared to be anyone else around besides these two and the earliness of the morning could imply a lack of any other officers on duty.

‘That’s probably the best course of action,’ the first officer concurred and that almost certainly settled her decision.

She made sure they were still talking amongst themselves and above all facing each other, then abruptly darted to the side and started down the long corridor. Not having electric shackles on this time helped because her movement remained unrestricted and she wouldn’t have to worry about getting them off later. From past experience those things were pretty indestructible.

‘Hey!’ the first office sounded almost offended, even like he was sad Jyn wanted to run away from him.

‘Oi, missy, come back here!’ the second officer sounded annoyed and her voice annoyed Jyn. ‘Stop that woman!’

Why had she said that? Who was lurking down here? Jyn tried to slow down her speed to assess her oncoming potential attacker, but failed to get it down in time.

‘Come here, you little clanker.’ That insult caught her off guard and it allowed the man giving it to sneak past her defences. He appeared from around the unseen corner at the end of the corridor she’d sprinted down and crashed right into Jyn. She tumbled into the nearby wall along with him and he secured a tight hold around her middle.

Jyn tried to wriggle free or hit him loose, but it was no use. He appeared much stronger than her. She glanced forward and saw the front entrance right there. It rattled her nerves because she was so fucking close. If she could _just_ _get outside_ , she could lose them in the city for sure.

The first officer caught up with them and pulled out some shackles while the other man continued to hold Jyn firmly in place. The first officer moved Jyn’s wrists together and she was powerless to do anything against them. ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of fraud after giving a false name and then resisting arrest,’ the first officer said. ‘You will be held here indefinitely until the proper proceedings can be taken.’

The second officer appeared and smirked at seeing Jyn in the position she was. ‘Take her away, Jared,’ she said and then even patted Jyn’s head.

Jyn wanted to rip her apart.

Jared – presumably the second man – let go of Jyn’s waist now and grabbed her forearm, dragging her back down the corridor. He took her past the stairs that led to the drunk tank and onto the cells on ground level. They didn’t have bars. They were just a solid door with a small window up at the top that was closable only from the outside.

Thankfully, he unshackled her and proceeded to shove Jyn inside the cell. Watching the door slam shut in front of her... and she thought she might cry.

This was such a fuck up. A really big fuck up.

Jyn circled around and around in her cell for hours, thinking of anything to get her out of this stupid mess. It would be okay, she kept telling herself, it would be okay. There would be an opportunity to get free and then she could just lie low in her hole for awhile. Hey, she had enough food to last a month. No permanent damage needed to happen here. Just a small inconvenience that wouldn’t last.

But, in the end, some tiny little feeling in the back of her mind said different, like the same tiny feeling that twelve years ago told her to go back and find her mother so she’d at least get a chance to see again her before she died, to see both her parents one last time before she disappeared off with the Gerreras. That feeling felt like a light in the dark, a spot in the sun on a cool autumn evening, guiding her to her destiny.

Jyn fell asleep in the cell. The thundering clanks of a door being abruptly opened, startled her awake and the adrenaline rush had her sitting up pretty quickly. No wonder, when she peered up to find that second officer at her cell entrance.

She tiled her head to the side and lifted the shackles in her hand. ‘Time to go, Ms. Hallik.’

Jyn knew it would be silly to resist at this point. She had only been out for a possible few hours but that certainly meant it was around midday now so the police station would be swarming, unlike before. She’d have to find her chance later on. She stood up and let the second officer shackle her and lead her out of the cell. The second officer took her back to the front desk. There, that first officer and some other police officers Jyn didn’t recognise were waiting for her.

The oldest looking one stood forward to address her. His silver hair in a fancy style on the top of his pink head. ‘Unfortunately, Ms. Hallik, we can’t properly hold you here under the charges you’ve been accused of, so we’re going to be transferring you today to our larger facility further across the city.’ He turned to the man and woman next to him. ‘Go ahead and take her.’

They didn’t spare any time for her to say something. The man and woman stepped forward and led Jyn, by the arm, out of the building and into a shiny, black police van outside. The woman joined her in the back while the man went to the driver’s seat. Jyn’s shackles were connected to the floor by a link of chain and she could make out the outline of a blaster on the woman’s side. A drop of sweat from her forehead slid down light brown skin.

This van didn’t have a caged area in it, so perhaps they thought her less of a threat than she could be. She would use that to her advantage.

In the next few seconds, the engine rumbled to life and they were off. With nowhere left to look, Jyn stared at her hands. Randomly she thought of Mr. Hadder and how she would explain the strange, large bruises to him if she ever got back. It was clear getting out of this would require a struggle. Side eyeing the woman, Jyn hoped none of it would land on her face.

She went through the plan in her head. Wait until they stopped, preferably at a red light or something, jump the other woman, hope to knock her out, hope to find the keys to escape on her, get out of the vehicle and run until she couldn’t run anymore, deal with the man if he came to fight her as well. It would be tricky and rely on simply on just hitting until she got results, but Jyn was very desperate. She’d never gotten this caught in the clutches of authority before.

However, when the vehicle came to a halt, Jyn didn’t have the chance to test her plan before a commotion sounded from up front. Her and the woman both darted their heads towards the unseeable driver’s seat. Yet, the other woman barely even made a questioning hum and then the doors to the van flung open.

Two figures pulled her out and knocked her to the ground. Jyn strained to see what they would do with her to get a sense of what was going on.

But Jyn’s view was suddenly blocked by a man with pink skin and dark hair. He wore something similar to her own entire of old, tatty, worn-out clothes. The man clambered onto the van and crouched in front of her. ‘You wanna get out of here? Are you Liana Hallik?’ he said.

Again, with _that_ name? But Jyn merely nodded and watched the man pick open her shackles with some small device. The others with this man called from outside and he turned his head.

Finally free Jyn took this as her chance and the answer as to why that tiny feeling told her things wouldn’t go the way she hoped. Someone else would deal with the tricky part first and then leave the rest to her. She raised her foot abruptly in the small space and rammed it into the solid part of his chest. The man, caught off guard, slammed backwards into the other side of the van. With him stunned, Jyn rushed past him. She cut off the first of his colleagues that came to see what had happened.

Now there was only one left. Jyn used the van door to deflect the last woman’s blow, pulling it toward her. The woman cried out in pain when her fist collided unexpectedly with blunt metal. Jyn pushed the door back the other way and caught her on the shoulder. She smashed her leg up into the woman’s stomach and used all the remaining momentum to push her onto the ground. With all these rescuing strangers down, Jyn completed the last step of her plan and darted off as fast as she could.

‘No wait! This isn’t—! Come back! Liana, come back!’ she heard the first rescuer call from behind her, but Jyn didn’t stop. She just kept running at the top of her lungs.

She needed to get off the road, out of the public eye. Diving in between the shocked pedestrians, she dashed on into the nearest alleyway. Right about now, it would be of use to find a quiet area where she could try to figure out where she currently resided within the city. That van journey had been less than twenty minutes there was no chance of her being anywhere else.

However, the other end of this alleyway suddenly filled with people, all focusing their attention at her. They weren’t police, no uniforms. Possibly more of these confusing rescue people from their worn-out clothes. Jyn braced herself, regardless. There was only four of them, she had taken on more with less energy before. Her training under the Gerreras held through.

The first one went down easy. Jyn slammed her fist into his cheek and stood back to let him tumble to the floor. The second one, a woman this time, managed to get a blow to Jyn’s sternum, instantly shocking her system. Through the pain, though, she grabbed the hand holding a baton, now aimed at her head, and drove it downwards, bringing the wrist down on her knee and making the woman drop her weapon. She spun and whacked an elbow up into the woman’s face. Using the force of the spin, Jyn grasped the fallen baton from the floor and brought it round to collide with the second man’s face.

He raised a hand in time to deflect the blow and suddenly she had to think to dodge a blow from the final stranger. A tall man with beige skin and trimmed facial hair. He wore a brown jacket so Jyn clocked that in her memory to keep focus on in the corner of her eye. She kicked him back but he only went half the distance she’d hoped for. Leaving her with less time to take out the second man.

She went with a quick attack then, one she’d learnt very early on: target the joints to stun for easy pain and then knock down to keep down. Jyn flicked the baton between his elbows and then down hard onto his knee. He groaned in pain before she smacked the baton across his face and he went flying.

This last one, however, remained a little bit harder to bring down. He darted back from Jyn’s surprising blow and braced himself for the next attack.

Cautious, Jyn took her time and held back for a second.

‘This doesn’t have to end this way, you know?’ he said, accent thick on his tongue.

‘Who says I’m the one that needs a chance to back down?’ Jyn said and then didn’t give him a moment to respond further. She threw her fist towards his middle. But somehow he managed to dodge it and slammed his own into her head.

Jyn stumbled back, fuming. The final man almost appeared a little sympathetic, but she didn’t let it throw her off. She struck low this time, hitting his knee with all the power she could muster as if to say _you should be_. She brought the baton around and hit his middle. The man grunted but caught her next attack and, after a small struggle, threw it back at her.

Jyn felt her frustration building. His height and stronger build were being more of a challenge than she had first anticipated. She threw another attack at him and another and gradually his defences began to weaken. A few more attacks and he struggled to keep up. Eventually, Jyn managed to get the right grip on his arm, the right push against his chest and she flipped him around her hip, launching him right over himself to land flat on his back.

The man gave out an exhaling grunt and was finally down. However, the fall knocked free what appeared to be a small pocket watch from his pocket. The light slid over the golden metal and Jyn saw the brief glimpse of a symbol. The same symbol she painted her belongings with to keep people off of them, to keep people afraid to own them because of who that symbol belonged to and the attention they often received from their powerful enemy.

These people were with the Rebellion. Questions began to circle in Jyn’s mind. She never served them personally in her Gerrera training days, only knew them through association, so what the hell did they want with her now? Why had they rescued her so valiantly from police custody? How did that effect them?

Chaos erupted from back up towards the street and it snapped Jyn to the present. Without hesitation, she turned tales and ran down the alleyway towards where these Rebels had arrived from.

—Suddenly an arm extended out from nowhere and grasped Jyn mid-run. The mere strength behind this limb lifted her straight off the ground and she gasped, almost subdued from just that. The arm then pulled her forward an inch before dumping her back down on the ground again. Landing on her back immediately winded her and Jyn blinked up at the strange figure in front of her vision. They stood taller than any human she’d ever seen and she could tell this just from her current position. Slowly, she took note that both their legs and arms were missing, replaced by long, elongated, metal limbs, stretching out from their human torso.

‘Congratulations, you are being rescued. Please do not resist,’ this person said from above.

The final man spoke from behind her, ‘oh fantastic job, K2.’

Angry, Jyn went to jump back up again. But the strange, alien-limbed human took that as a sign of attack and moved their fist right into the space between Jyn’s eyes, knocking her out cold.

She woke up sharply with a headache and, after proper examination, a swollen eye. She was in a moving van again, but unlike before she didn’t appeared to be shackled anywhere and she was laid down on the floor, instead of propped up in a seat.

‘Well, I can barely feel half my face, so this better be worth it.’

‘So much for her fleeing into our arms like a lost lamb...’

‘Hey, Cassian isn’t the one who said that. It was the General who said that. If anything Cassian agreed with the genuine outcome.’

‘What, when? How the hell could anyone predict all of us getting our arses handed to us by a 5ft woman?’

Careful, Jyn glanced around and saw several people surrounded her on the seat rows at the sides of the van, while she lay down in the centre with just a brown jacket for a pillow. The strange-limbed man sat separate in the corner behind the driver’s seat. Dormant, like he was sleeping but with his eyes open. Their conversation abruptly stopped once one of them noticed she’d awoken up and called to someone in the front seats.

That final man, the one she’d struggled to take down, came out from the passenger seat. He wore only a yellowy shirt now and, with the dawning realisation, Jyn glanced to see his brown jacket as her pillow. Hand on the van’s ceiling, he managed not to stumble as he made his way to the spot where Jyn laid down.

Crouching before her, Jyn sat up to get away from him, but quickly ended up bumping into the back of the van. With two on side and three on the other, there wasn’t much room left in the middle for two to sit.

Legs either side of them, the final man looked her up and down, ‘are you okay?’ he said and then realised his mistake, ‘relatively speaking, despite the... bruises.’

Jyn said nothing. She merely scowled at him and rubbed the faint redness around her wrists. That annoying second officer had put her shackles on a little too tight, on purpose for sure though.

‘You brought it on yourself, you know?’ the final man said and, despite the fact his facial features didn’t change, he almost seemed amused.

‘Of course she did,’ the first person Jyn had knocked out in the alleyway said. He possessed golden skin with thin slithers of dark hair on his upper lip and chin. He wore a hat over the dark helmet on his head. ‘I’ve never been on a rescue mission before where the one we’re rescuing _punches_ us.’

The woman next to him patted his shoulder. ‘That’s because you’ve never been punched before, Stordie.’

The final man tried to creep closer and it brought Jyn’s attention straight back to him. She made her clear she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

‘You don’t need to be scared,’ he looked like he was about to say her name or something, but thought better of himself, for some reason. He shook his head, lightly. ‘We’re taking you to a Rebellion base. You’ll be safe there. Then we can fully debrief you on our intentions.’ He waited there to give her a brief chance to speak but she didn’t bite. ‘We need you to help us find someone,’ he said.

Jyn didn’t relax and kept up her scowl. She couldn’t think of who he could be talking about, though.

The final man took the continued silence as a moment to introduce himself. ‘My name is Cassian.’ Then he added quickly, ‘Andor.’ He gestured to the people around him.

‘Brae Tivik,’ a young woman in the corner with dark circles under her blue eyes, easily noticeable against her pink skin; her deathly stare directed at the floor, Jyn had rammed the police van door into her.

‘Arro Basteren,’ a youthful boy with purple bruising on his pink face, the one Jyn had knocked out first by the police van.

‘Farsin Kappehl,’ a greying man with wan pink skin up in the driver’s seat, the one who led them and had undone her shackles.

‘Walea Timker,’ a woman with brown skin darker than Cassian’s jacket and hair in a tight braid, the woman Jyn met in the alleyway with the baton.

‘Taidu Sefla,’ a man with equally dark skin and the one she’d taken down with Walea’s baton.

‘Stordan Tonc,’ he sat beside Walea, the one who had never been punched before.

‘and you, uh, met K-2SO,’ and finally the super human in the corner. He didn’t even indicate that he’d heard his name be mentioned.

Jyn wanted to ask why a human would have numbers in their name but she liked this wall of silence she’d created.

‘We’ve all been briefed on you, of course,’ Cassian said and he waited again for Jyn to speak. The Rebellion having information on her didn’t come across as surprising, some of them would probably recognise her at a push from her training days under the Gerreras. But even back then she still went by incorrect names, something the Gerreras had first gotten her into, in fact.

Ignoring Cassian, instead Jyn went over each person again and studied them to find the damage she’d done. They all looked a lot worse than she felt and in her book that counted as a victory, despite K-2SO’s involvement towards the end. Afterwards, she returned her gaze back to Cassian and still maintained her wall of silence once more.

Cassian huffed, finally giving up. ‘Fine. Don’t say word. Be like that then,’ he said and  trundled back to his spot in the passenger seat.

Jyn spent the rest of the journey huddled on the floor while her extraction team quietly spoke amongst themselves. Cassian kept glancing back at her from time to time and Jyn wondered what he was searching for, trying to make sure she didn’t attack them again or genuinely worrying for her wellbeing. That was nonsense though, possibly the adrenaline talking and clouding her mind. Strangers didn’t care for strangers. The only ones who stayed loyal were the dead.

This meant truly that Jyn only had her mother left.

To calm herself, like she’d done countless times before, Jyn reached into her shirt and slid her finger over the small crystal necklace on a piece of dark string around her neck. She never took it off no matter what, so often forget it was even there sometimes. It had been the last thing her mother gave her before she died. She’d take it from her own neck, looked Jyn straight in the eyes and uttered the words ‘trust the Force’ before then donning it around Jyn’s own neck.

Her mother enjoyed her religion rather quietly as so not to have disturbed her father’s work. But he wouldn’t have minded much if she did, Galen remained a kind man, in spite of his apparently problematic creations. Twelve years after she’d last seen him and she still didn’t understand what he made with his science.

The van came to a sudden stop and Cassian disappeared from the passenger seat to open the back doors. Everyone seemed to make sure to prevent Jyn from standing up until they’d all gotten out and she figured this was what she deserved, after all, for beating their arses down. Cassian remained by the door and held out his hand to help Jyn down. She took it, much to his surprise and her advantage because if she didn’t like where they had taken her, physical contact would make it easy to pull him towards her for inflicting an attack.

They had apparently taken her to an empty street with a large pub towering before them, the van parked in the back alley beside it. Jyn frowned, they were still in the city just on the very, very outskirts. She glanced down from its hanging sign to see the others filing into the pub and Cassian waiting for her to follow him. His expression showed he figured she might finally break her silent run and ask a question but Jyn decided to disappoint him.

She followed Cassian inside the pub. It appeared relatively empty this early in the evening. A few of the occupants peered up to look at her from behind their glasses. Ignoring them, Cassian lead her past the main bar area and into the building beyond. But unlike the many pubs she’d seen or even worked behind, this back building didn’t contain a home for the pub’s owner but another building, its purpose entirely different from serving food and drinks to the locals. In fact it turned out not to be just one building but a whole series of them, all interconnected and all disguised as a pub and local housing.

Jyn was almost impressed by the whole thing, if only it didn’t feel a tad unnecessary. The First Order weren’t _this_ powerful an enemy that they needed to be hidden from so fiercely and cunningly. Yes, their Stormtrooper gangs gained a lot of the privilege when it came to winning over the jury in trials. But, on the basis, they were just a bunch of people with strong words about the general state of the country and the influence of the Jedi Order, right..?

This place appeared to quite empty. They passed barely five people on the way to wherever Cassian was taking her now. Down on a long silent corridor, she walked past a dim room with many people surrounding a large glowing table. One of them in all white, with short auburn hair resting strong against pink skin, caught her eye but they didn’t turn towards the door in time after the others noticed Jyn’s passing.

Cassian took her some way further down this current corridor to an office at the end of it. He knocked on the open door while blocking Jyn’s view of the inside.

A man in a long off-green jacket approached the door. He had a stressed flush to his pink face. He seemed displeased with Cassian and that led Jyn to believe waiting for him was what had caused his facial redness to raise in impatient anger.

‘General Draven, Cassian Andor reporting in,’ Cassian said and threw a hand towards Jyn. ‘We found the extraction component. She gave us a little trouble but it’s all good now. We should allow her to freshen up first before a debriefing, I think.’

Draven peered around properly at Jyn and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he then wrinkled his nose at her. ‘Understood. On this one occasion, use mine,’ he said, voice tight. ‘But, Cassian, have her done within the hour, we’ve kept Commander Mon Mothma waiting long enough.’

‘Of course, sir,’ Cassian said. He turned around and grabbed Jyn by the arm, firmly taking her over to the stairs opposite the office. ‘Come this way,’ he said and motioned her up the stairs.

Each step creaked, awkwardly filling the silent corridor with unwanted noise. Jyn thought for sure, before they reached the top, someone would poke their head out from that first room she’d glanced into.

At the top, Cassian directed Jyn to the furthest door on the end and, opening it, revealed the room behind to be a refresher. She stepped inside and turned to Cassian in confusion.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t let you meet my superiors just yet. You need to, uh, shower first,’ he said and she felt there was more to that statement than he appeared to be letting on. ‘This is the General’s refresher, so,’ he tentatively switched the light on, ‘ _please_ don’t break anything.’

Jyn turned back to the basic shower on the far wall. It had been made in white with a simple white curtain to go around it. Now, she wasn’t about to turn down a warm shower, if it ever happened to be offered up to her. Mr. Hadder often gave out the offer when she first used to visit him but after she found out he was charged for the heating of his water, she began turning him down.

Cassian forced out a cough behind her and said, ‘feel free to start setting up. I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna, uh, get something for you.’

When she turned around he was already gone, those awkward creaks an indication of him heading back down the stairs. Jyn walked over to the door and pushed it right to its frame but didn’t let it close completely. She wondered why Cassian seemed so flustered by the thought of a person having a shower. From her guessing, he looked older than her and, even still, she’d seen and been around multiple people showering and washing in her time. What was there to even be embarrassed about? Everybody went to the toilet, everybody farted from time to time and everybody showered.

Jyn shrugged and started to strip. She flung off her boots, glad to free her feet from their tight, sweaty hold and then consequently had to peel her socks off. She shimmed out of her trousers and folded them up to place on top of her boots, doing the same with her body warmer, jacket and shirt. From the pockets, she pulled out her latest collection of stuffing for her hole’s shell and threw it away in the bin; it wouldn’t be much use now and she would always get more once this was done. She tugged the band free from her hair, allowing it to spill down her back. Stood in just her underwear now, she was folding up the blue vest when Cassian returned.

A knock at the door and he walked straight in. Jyn threw her head up roughly to protest to that action with another scowl.

Paused at the door, Cassian couldn’t stop his eyes going wide as he realised her state of undress and, to be frank, he deserved it for not waiting for her permission. Trying to hide his now deepening blush, he walked forward and placed some objects on the stool in the corner. ‘I’m going to leave these here,’ he said, keeping direct eye contact. ‘ _Please_ use them.’

In response, Jyn merely reached behind to undo her bra and Cassian whipped out the room faster than she’d seen him move so far. It raised a small smile out of her and for that she chastised herself internally. Strangers didn’t care for strangers.

He left the door how she’d put it, at least. Now alone, she went over to inspect the items he had put down. A bottle of shampoo, a bottle of shower gel, and a large bar of soap. She side-eyed the door in suspicion. _Does he think that I smell?_ Jyn thought.

‘Well, you’re not getting my clothes, that’s for sure,’ she said out loud. If he did happen to be waiting just outside the door, he would have heard her.

The water felt _wonderful_. Jyn spent the first ten minutes just under the warm stream letting it flow over her face and scalp and achy body. She liked the way it wove down her arms and made her arm hair shift like flickering flames. The bottle of shampoo, Cassian left, smelt like strong, fancy chemicals but didn’t burn when she put a dot on her skin. So Jyn squirted out some more and smothered her hair in it, using her fingers to massage it into the roots. She spread the shower gel around her body until it lathered and, while it washed off, she wiped the soap under her pits and over her chest. She then stood under the stream as it washed everything away. Once done, a line of dark grim had circled around the drain plug.

One man didn’t deserve to have such a wonderful washing system all to himself, Jyn thought as she switched off the water and stepped out onto the foot matt. But he seemed like the type to keep the best things for just him. The way he seemed impatient at Cassian for not having shown up earlier. It wasn’t like her fight would have delayed them by much, it didn’t take that long for her to get through Cassian and his group. Unless something happened whilst she’d been unconscious, she couldn’t think of what caused his impatience.

A mirror rested on the wall and Jyn seized a sudden glimpse of herself. Stringy strands of wet, dark hair hung over her features. She’d been careful to avoid her bodily bruises while washing, however, the black bruising across her eye looked better than it felt. She could do with some perigen gel to reduce the swelling. Perhaps they would give it if she asked.

Jyn dried off and got dressed again. Maybe she had read Draven wrong. It did happen, every once in a while. After squeezing her hair dry, she pulled it into the simple bun just above her nape.

Slowly she slipped the refresher door open and found Cassian standing outside, cropped up on the wall by the top of the stairs. He looked rather bored and glanced her way on instant at the sound of the door.

‘Finally finished?’ he said but, learning his lesson, didn’t wait for her to speak this time, ‘let’s go then.’ He gestured down the stairs and Jyn followed him to the bottom. As predicted, he lead her to that first room they’d passed, however this time it was empty.

Cassian ushered Jyn to stand before the centre table. He then moved to the side and leant against one of the glowing green screens, four of which surrounded the table. Their glow came from the lines of green that run through the sheets of glass in long curves and strides. A similar pattern illuminated the table with lines of red, white, and orange. It looked like a form of strategy, like the table would help with planning a battle of some sort. Anywhere else a strange table such as this, new technology carved into old furniture, would appear very out of place. But in this weird building, it fitted right in.

Footsteps and General Draven appeared at the door. He exhaled, probably louder than necessary, Jyn turning to see a datapad in his hands. He approached her and read from the pad, ‘you’re currently going by the name Liana Hallik, is that correct?’

She didn’t respond, Tanith Ponta had been a new name, a recent alias still in infancy, no wonder they’d struggled to find it.

‘A level three case of fraud, resisting arrest, a previous sixteen cases of unresolved theft, and now escaping police custody.’

Jyn narrowed her eyes as if to say that last was thanks to you, by the way. Although, they simply helped in the inevitable, Draven’s attitude made it out like it had all been her own doing and she didn’t like that.

‘Well, Liana Hallik, you certainly have made quite a rep for yourself,’ Draven said, carrying on, and he switched off his datapad to place it down on the table’s un-glowing edge. ‘How do you think the authorities would feel if they knew your real name, _Jyn Erso_?’

Her head immediately snapped towards him but, fortunately, she managed to keep her face blank. It had been years since she’d heard that name out loud.

The last time had come from her own mouth, in fact, when she’d told it to a young girl. Jyn had helped to retrieve the girl’s her cat from the local police station, after they’d confiscated the animal for misbehaving, and it felt only right to say her true birth name to a stranger she would never see again. The girl had smiled and said the name back to her and that made Jyn hope she would actually see her again. The Force did not deliver, in the end.

‘That is correct, you are Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen and Lyra Erso? A family very closely connected to Orson Krennic, a known First Order supporter and head of the project named _Deathstar_.’

A door opening in the corner moved Jyn’s thoughts back to the here and now. All three of them turned to see the person in white enter the room. They were a fresh-faced woman with hard eyes and almost ceremonial robes. The woman approached the table opposite Jyn and the wonder from when she’d seen her previous returned. Something about this woman radiated tranquillity and calm. It could be felt only very lightly by Jyn, but it seemed enough to make her somewhat trustworthy. If any would give her a straight answer, it would be this woman.

‘What is this?’ Jyn asked, firmly. She saw Cassian shift in the corner of her, at last she’d spoken.

‘If you want it to be, it could be a fresh start,’ the woman said. Her voice supported her tranquillity, sounding silky smooth like a stone worn down by the ocean, and it calmed Jyn further. ‘We think you might be able to help us recover a defecting pilot, who in turn would lead us to your father.’

 _My father?_ Jyn frowned.

‘My name is Mon Mothma.’ She gestured to Draven, ‘this is General Davits Draven, and I see you’ve been acquainted with Captain Cassian Andor.’

Jyn touched her face on automatic. She gave him an icy side-glare. ‘Yes, his hand met my face just the other day,’ she said.

‘I was trying to go easy on you,’ Cassian said, muttering to his shoes.

‘I could tell.’

‘Settle down now, children,’ Draven cut through. ‘This is serious business,’ he said, firmly. ‘We need to know, will you help us or not?’

Jyn huffed, ‘why are you on the clock or something? she said.

‘In fact we are,’ Cassian said, abruptly stepping forward. His gaze one of determination. ‘If we don’t recover this defective pilot then the First Order may manage to arm themselves with a weapon far more powerful than any of us can comprehend.’

Jyn regarded him for a long moment, then turned her gaze back to someone who would explain what he meant.

‘We need your answer here,’ Mothma clarified, ‘so we can search for an alternative as soon as possible.’

These people seemed genuinely, and above all else, desperate. ‘Why are you doing all this?’ she said, peering at each one of them. ‘Why do you even _have_ this building? The First Order are just a bunch of people with strong words. They’re not dangerous. They have no backing, barely any support. They’re just like all the other political parties: lost under the chaos of the Senate.’

‘But they do,’ Cassian said, sharply. In alarm, Jyn turned to face him. He stared her down and gradually his expression softened. ‘Do you... not know what your father does for them?’

‘I never understood my father’s work, I was a child,’ Jyn said. She knew of the science and how his work involved experiments, but the Gerreras had done things similar with explosives and survival techniques and it had been such a long time ago from when she was a child. Other emotions and memories got in the way. ‘And I’ve had trouble keeping up with it since then.’

‘When was the last time you were in contact with your father?’ Draven said. He’d picked up his datapad again and was typing something unseen onto one of its boxes.

‘I don’t remember,’ she said and fought back the emotions attached to that statement. She couldn’t even remember his face anymore or her mother’s. Perhaps she wouldn’t recognise him if she saw him again. ‘I like to think he’s dead.’ Her eyes moved down. ‘Makes things easier sometimes,’ she said, matter of a fact.

‘Easier than what?’ Cassian said, beside her. ‘Than he’s been a tool of the First Order’s desire for control and war?’

She couldn’t tell for certain if he’d seen through her shoddy veil of emotional constipation or his own determination prevented him from not pushing. Nonetheless, she filled her face with anger.

But couldn’t turn it up towards him. What gave him the right to say anything about her family? Out of everything she struggled to comprehend from her childhood, she knew at least her father was a good man. He would tuck her into bed, after a set of bad dreams, with a glass of hot coco, would tell her he loved her.

‘Galen Erso creates weapons, Jyn,’ Mothma said, despite the words she spoke, her voice reminded Jyn of ocean waves dancing up to a beach shore. ‘The First Order have had him in their clutches since the beginning. He’s been doing dangerous research into kyber crystals for them most of his life and recently, according to our sources, Orson Krennic has been overseeing his creation of a geo-bomb possessing immense power. If this is true, we need to stop that.’

‘And we’re the only ones who seem to want to,’ Draven remarked, dryly.

Somehow Mon Mothma’s words managed to clip together floating images in her mind. Like a puzzle: the blue print of something large and mechanical, there; the sight of her father in goggles flicking a test tube with his finger, here; drawings from his work journal of equations and the components of a strange crystal, right in the centre. It had all blurred together as the white noise of science at the time, but with this conclusion in mind, it made sense his work would lead to the creation of a weapon. The violent reactions conducted in his lab, always leaving it with a foul smell inside. Jyn had always known this, she just couldn’t put her finger on it before.

‘A delivery pilot, who worked with your father’s team, defected a short few days ago and we’ve been tracking his whereabouts ever since,’ Cassian said. ‘He is stating that your father has created a bomb with the power to level whole cities. We believe it’s clear this pilot will be the key to discovering your father’s current whereabouts and the First Order’s correct intentions with his work.’

Datapad down again, Draven leant on the glowing table with just his hands. ‘Captain Andor’s mission is to find this pilot and authenticate his claims,’ he said. ‘Then if possible, lead that trail to your father.’ He shared a concerning look with Mothma.

‘Just a few days ago, the pilot came into contact with the Gerreras,’ she said.

That name pricked up Jyn’s ears like that of a cat hearing the dinner bell.

‘What do you know of them?’ Cassian asked, noticing.

Jyn put it simply, ‘they took me in after my mother died and my father got taken, they raised me. But it’s been five years from when they,’ the anger swirled in her belly, made her feel sick suddenly, ‘...and I haven’t seen them since.’

‘They would remember you though?’ Cassian said, carelessly poking around the subject still. ‘If you asked to meet with them as a friend?’

Jyn didn’t shrug. ‘I suppose.’ Then confusion flooded her face. ‘You’re with the Rebellion, though, and the last time I checked so were the Gerreras.’ This wasn’t her first time being face-to-face with Rebel Alliance officials. She remembered being taken to different bases back in her training days, none so elaborate as this one. Clearly they’d upgraded their secrecy since that time. It felt as ridiculous back then, as it did now.

But maybe their fear had turned out to be justified as Jyn began to comprehend.

‘Why can’t you just ask them yourself?’ she said.

‘That may be so,’ Mothma said, ‘but the Gerreras have become extremists and over the years it’s caused a great too many troubles for the Alliance and our anonymity.’

‘Technically, it’s illegal for us to be here right now, doing this,’ Draven said, he made a general gesture in the air, ‘since the Senate is like you and don’t believe the First Order will be any trouble in the future.’

‘They’re already trouble now,’ Mothma said, her voice now firm, ‘Jyn, if we can find your father, we could get him to testify in front of the Senate and prove that the First Order are worth fighting. It would bring down their entire political standing and stop them from taking control of this country.’

Sensibly, Jyn considered the offer. It didn’t escape her notice that in the end they only wanted her as bait for the Gerreras. Why she expected something more from these people, she would never know. They weren’t here to make friends, this was business. Yet they’d unlocked emotions in her, ones which she’d kept buried for more than a decade and, in turn, uncovered more questions about her future.

Still, like a lot of things, it bothered her. So she pulled her emotions back and thought only of herself, if clearly no one else would. Jyn met Mothma’s eye. ‘If I do this,’ she said, ‘and help you fight the First Order, what’s in it for me?’

‘Once we’ve found your father and gotten him to testify,’ Mothma said, ‘we’ll gladly help you start a free life. You won’t ever have to steal or sleep on the streets again.’

They thought wrong of her in one aspect then, she didn’t care about being free, she cared about getting her father back and maybe... per chance... having a life with him. Jyn went for the leap of faith. They thought that freedom was what she cared about then fine.

‘Okay,’ she said and Mothma nodded.

They were to head to the city of Jedha. The most recently known hideout of Gerreras was to be found there. Jyn had a tough sleep and not just because of Cassian’s light snoring or the fact she got the short straw of sleeping on the tatty, broken sofa in his quarters. Or even because of her sore black eye. Although, it probably didn’t help he mostly used the sofa for piling clothes and spare boxes on. During the morning, they packed a van. Jyn busied herself with packing food from the kitchens to avoid having to make light conversation with Cassian. She needed to keep a distance from this man; he wasn’t here to be her friend.

They understood the mission, they didn’t need anything else, Jyn kept telling herself.

She found him and K-2SO by the van and, even though they were in the same side alleyway Farsin had parked the her extraction van inside the day before, they were set up in a different one this time. Jyn walked right up to the open doors, opened her mouth to say something, when Draven called for Cassian behind them.

He shared a look with her before jumping down from the van and rushing over, which in turn left Jyn alone with K-2SO.

He look a little cramped knelt down at the head of the van, his head just skimming the ceiling from there and the front seats right beside him, but then he start typing speedily and any of Jyn’s remaining empathy disappeared into reluctant amazement. How he couldn’t make a million mistakes with a keyboard that old fashioned, the keys extended up as separate pieces instead of displayed as a part of the main screen. She had been briefed on the device and its uses to record mission information and data logs, and to communicated with the officers back at the Rebel base without anyone unwanted listening in.

It took Jyn a minute to become aware that she’d been staring. She darted her gaze down quickly, then thought differently. ‘What _are_ you exactly?’ she said.

K-2SO didn’t even look up from his screen. ‘I am a person,’ he said. ‘My name is K-2SO. I was taken as a child and brainwashed by the First Order but Cassian found me and helped me to work past that.’

Jyn couldn’t stop her mind from going blank; had anyone said this to her last week she would have laughed it off as conspiracy. But it only took one drop to drown her ignorance, it would seem.

His neutral tone only served to make the things he’d said worse; it meant he was used to the concept. If he took note of her reaction, he didn’t indicate so.

‘What’s with your legs and arms then?’ Jyn said.

‘I don’t know,’ K-2SO turned to face her, the fluidity of his movements immensely droid-like. ‘But I was not born with them that is for sure.’

She studied his face for a second and found that, unlike first thought, he did express a range of emotions, she just needed to search for them through different signs. It would take some getting used to.

‘I do not think you should come with us,’ he said and broke her traction of thought. ‘I think that is a dangerous decision and Cassian agrees.’

‘Does he now?’ Jyn said but she didn’t care. By now, she’d returned her attention to her own bag and sneaked in a few more bread rolls, stuffing them into the bottom.

‘I just said he does,’ K-2SO said, clueless.

She took out the blaster she’d stolen from Cassian’s quarters and settled onto the long set of seats opposite to K-2SO. His typing filled the air as she checked the barrel and the charge, making sure it still worked since it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a few years. The model was also an indicator, at least a few years behind Cassian’s other ones since it lacked diamond-shaped barrel end and the extended ammo chamber.

Cassian returned and hopped back up into the van. ‘You met K2 then,’ he said, trying to be causal. The super-human man himself got up from before the computer and half crouched, half walked to the driver’s seat.

‘He’s as charming as you are,’ Jyn said.

Unfazed, Cassian opened a compartment at the top of the van. He pulled from there a blue body warmer patched with faded yellow and flung it on. ‘The man tends to say whatever comes into his head,’ he said, and crouched in front of the computer. Jyn couldn’t see what he was typing from her spot. ‘It’s a consequence of what I had to do to free him, but I’m okay to pay it. Plus sometimes he says stuff that’s really funny.’

Then almost like right on cue, ‘why does she get a blaster and yet you still deny me one?’ K-2SO said suddenly, and Jyn tensed.

‘What?’ Cassian looked up from the small screen and twirled his upper body towards her. The moment he locked eyes on the blaster, he got up.

‘It’s just small hand blaster,’ she said and hoped that would defuse him. Of course it didn’t, ‘in case we get into a tight spot,’ that didn’t either, ‘I know how to use it.’ She didn’t plan on giving it back no matter what he thought or did.

‘That’s what concerns me,’ he approached her and held out his hand. ‘Give it to me,’ he said, tone firm.

‘No,’ Jyn gritted her teeth but managed to restrain her anger. Determined, she stared him down. ‘Trust goes both ways, Cassian,’ she said. ‘And we’ll need that if we want this mission to work.’

He regarded her for a few seconds longer and then, to her surprise, returned to the computer.

K-2SO leant over his shoulder. ‘You’re letting her keep it, aren’t you?’

‘Keep quiet, K2, and start the van, please,’ Cassian said without looking up and Jyn fought the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The engine rumbled to life and resonated through the van walls around them.

Finished with that, Cassian stood up as much as he could, and moved over to the passenger seat. He opened the glove compartment to retrieve a map. Him and K-2SO began to bicker quietly amongst themselves while Cassian folded out the map and started plotting their route.

K-2SO eased the van gently out of the alleyway and Jyn inched herself further away from their seats. She ignored her training and didn’t bother to listen in on their conversation. From what she’d learn about them so far, Jyn doubted it would come important later on. For now, she stayed slumped in the corner, arms folded, as she prepared herself to see the Gerreras again for the first time in five years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... yeah Jyn worked a lot out of me ;) onto Cassian next, he's one of the tricky ones. Let me know your thoughts on my AU world and how you think it works.


	2. Cassian Andor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian turned out to be a more challenging man to gel with than I thought DDD;

The word _family_ only seemed to cause Cassian more pain than good these days. At night, he even swore he could hear it laughing at him during the little sleep he got, mocking him like a murder of crows circling above a dead carcass on the road.

Could he remember his blood family? Their life together flashed over Cassian’s eyes sometimes too fast to process correctly. One smell would remind him of his father’s cooking from black-lined, cream pots or another of his mother’s work records. A vision of the data pads piled high in her dimly lit office, to be done with, he did not know what. He had only been six when they’d died after all. Not enough time to have gathered a solid structure of memories and emotions about someone.

For their brief time together, they lived in the calm city of Fest. Cassian had been a lonely child, however, not out of chose. His parents were kind and lovely, he was sure. And his childhood had been warm and gentle.

To be honest, he did not think of them much. Because, each time he really tried to remember, all he saw were their lifeless bodies sprawl across the gutter, sinking into their own blood, their energies already merged with the Force. He’d come back too late to save them or, even worse, he’d come back late enough to avoid the same fate.

Cassian Andor never cared much for history. But he had been born almost in the middle of the tyrannical dictatorship of the Empire. From nine years prior to his birth, Emperor Palpatine ravaged his country with his excerpts of paranoia and journey for greed, and continued to do so for three long years afterwards. He wore the armies thin by tests of loyal and chipped away at the general population with purges of saboteurs, crying wolf over and over again until everyone eventually stopped being sure of what was real and what was the Emperor’s dark thoughts taking over.

Then even after his death, his misdoings didn’t stop. Many carried on after in his name and those followers got Cassian’s parents killed for it all.

His parents protested strongly against the immersion of Empire scientists into the New Republic Research Industry and during such a protest, his father was shot and his mother was beaten to death by a flock of remaining Empire supporters. Cassian had only left for a second to collect water and bread and came back to find his life turned upside down. They got killed by the same people they were fighting for the Senate to hold accountable of past actions, yet afterwards the Senate did nothing and even went through with their original intentions regardless.

In the dawn of the revolution, this newly established government was a mess and lots drowned in the chaos.

The leader of the protests took Cassian in, fortunately, and then brought him into the real fight. He joined a insurrectionist cell funded by a private source, which meant he spent most of his days chucking stones at patrol guards and the rich folk cars that passed the Fest city walls. Out of everything, at least it taught him patience and the importance of every shot, because it could take just one rock in the right place to bring to a stop an entire truck full of people.

It was here, along with the other soldiers, he became forced to learn the history of his country. So in turn, they would not forget the mistakes of their ancestors. He learnt about how, almost a century ago, the Sith royal families fought for over two generations. Their petty family feuds cost thousands of lives and drained the land of its resources. Now, the people felt tired. He learnt about why, fifty years later, the Empire unexpectedly took over at the death of Queen Amidala. Apparently she’d been killed by her husband’s bodyguard who had betrayed his Jedi Masters and attempted to massacre the entire royal family. Finally, Cassian learnt about when the tireless efforts of her children brought the Emperor’s his terrible reign to an end, the people did not praise them. Little was known about the prince and princess but after years of fighting their battles for them and paying the price for their mistakes, no one wanted to have a royal family in charge anymore.

Therefore, the New Republic was set up and from it grew the democratic system of the Senate. Finally the people had a say in the affairs of their country. They could vote in members to veto laws. And nothing happened without a majority agreeing towards it, somehow.

But this new set up caused many people to turn a blind eye on a past problem. Several war criminals of the Empire were able to get away and disappear to lives of freedom they did not deserve. Or even worse, as Cassian had learned the hard way, were welcomed into the New Republic with open arms, as long as they promised to keep their barbaric experiments and intense thoughts under wraps, as long as they promised to work for the “good side” this time.

In the end, Cassian Andor learned the Empire never died, they simply converted their power and resources into the First Order and learned how to hide themselves better. They learned how to become legal, to play on their privileges and get away with their hate while still being able to go home at the end of day, free of anymore consequences. Although, Cassian didn’t see the public image of the Empire be put through many consequences either.

At age ten, seven years after the fall of the Empire, Cassian grew old enough to join the Republic army and spent his adolescence learning how to use knives to cut down and blasters to shot his enemies. He had order, duty, and discipline drilled into him like nails into fresh wood. Beds were made, weapons were cleaned, wounds were stitched and bandaged over and over again, he served and obeyed his country up until he completed a silver service. The work took its toll on Cassian, both in body and mind, but he lost his innocence wholly when his parents were murdered, now he’d chosen to train what was left into something deadly, into something that could fight back.

Into his late mid-twenties, General Draven noticed him one day and recruited Cassian into a better, more productive business. He had joined the Rebellion and now worked alongside the children of Queen Amidala to bring down this new version of the Empire.

Yet he ended up doing acts here far more conflicting than anything he’d ever experienced in the Republic army. He told himself that what he did was for the greater cause. He knew that he needed to be able to give anything, with his mind or with his body, because it all would be done in the name of freedom. He’d trained his all teenager years for this and he stood with the Rebellion now, ever eager to serve.

On his current mission, Cassian found himself in the Ring of Kafrene, a trading out post within the gates of the city. Here, a passersby could come to trade fruits and creams for fabric and skins, or wood and drink for knives and oil. Credits nearly didn’t exist, as long as one came with the right items, the right trade, and an open mind. It was far enough from the city centre authorities, so Cassian knew when a gang of Stormtroopers opened fire on him and his informant, no one would be coming to intervene anytime soon. Like always, he was on his own.

Cassian immediately grabbed hold of Don Tivik’s jacket and hauled him into cover behind a pile of storage crates. Screams erupted around them while in a sea of chaos, people dashed this way and that for safety. Lumped onto the ground and back against a solid surface, he held his blaster close to his chest.

A shot flew over head, exploding in a burst of red and scorching the stone wall before them. Another blast shot past the crate at head level. A mother and child ran into Cassian’s view, he watched the flash of red align with her back and the child carry on alone.

‘You’re crazy, Cassian!’ Tivik screeched into Cassian’s ear next to him. Sweat coated his face like a second skin and from the chin dripped onto his jacket. ‘Did I say that already? Because you’re crazy!’

‘Quiet a minute, Tivik, let me think,’ he said and his eyes scanned the scene for anything of use. After everything he’d heard come out of Tivik’s mouth only minutes ago, about how their enemy were much further ahead than they’d anticipated and was about to create the powerful weapon that would completely change the entire game, Cassian would not be surprised if his brain had fallen that far.

Almost rightfully so, Tivik didn’t hold up, ‘let you _think_ , like you did just a moment go when you shot two passing Stormtroopers who _might_ have been listening in on us, you don’t know.’

Regardless of distraction, Cassian spied an escape to the right. It lay on their side of the crates but would involve a small break from cover.

‘Well they’re definitely listening to us now,’ Cassian said, turning to him.

‘Because you shot at them!’ Tivik said, instantly. ‘This is your fault.’

Cassian gritted his teeth. ‘I know.’

Putting his attention back to the Stormtroopers, he chanced a quick glimpse over the top of the crates. Three Stormtroopers stood together out in the open street, each with a blaster in hand, clearly distinguishable by the red bands around their forearms. Their dead comrades lay, still twitching, by their feet. Most Stormtroopers were only volunteers at this point, so conclusively their aim couldn’t be that good. If they darted towards the other passage quickly enough, him and Tivik could make it.

They would have to act fast, however, their arrogance had made the Stormtroopers unafraid in simply walking down the street towards them.

‘I... I’m doomed now,’ Tivik said in despair, clutching at his hair.

‘No, you’re not,’ Cassian said as an attempt to anchor him. He couldn’t have him disappearing into a panic void now. They needed to move.

‘What are you talking about?’ Tivik said, looking up. ‘I’ll never escape from here with my arm.’ He gestured towards it and, noticing it start to slip, readjusted his coat back over his shoulders.

After a quick inhale, Cassian stuck himself out from the crates, shot at the middle Stormtrooper, getting her right in chest, and then turned back to Tivik to say, ‘sure, you will,’ before darting towards the passage.

‘Cassian, wait!’ Tivik called from behind him, but Cassian didn’t look back.

He bolted down the passageway and towards the light at the other end. He emerged out into another street market stretching off before him with smoke and music. No one was running and screaming here, but people had heard the shots and turned his way in confusion when he appeared. The Stormtroopers would surely be following not that far behind. Cassian used the mix of colours and haze in the moonlight to cloak him as he darted forward into the market.

A small glance over his shoulder showed Tivik had managed to catch up. They ran through the people, most of which didn’t make themselves easy to pass, and all the while waited for the signature sound of a blaster shot to ring through the air. Around another corner, dirt flew up from his shoes and Cassian felt pretty positive they’d done enough. Although, he planned to keep them running just a little longer to be sure.

But then he heard Tivik cry out and skidded to a halt to see him tumble down to the ground, presumably having tripped on his own feet. Tivik threw out his only hand; it wasn’t enough and his face took most of the fall. Cassian reluctantly returned to his side and found his face cut by the dirty ground, blood mixing in with the dark amber grit.

‘Tivik, get up,’ he said.

‘I can’t,’ Tivik appeared to be fighting back the tears. He examined his face with his hand and winced. He then went to push himself up and cried out again. ‘I think my ankle is broken,’ he said, clutching the joint.

‘How can you be sure?’ Cassian had already read from Tivik he’d never been on many missions, let alone ones that put him in the line of fire, so he could be possibly overestimating his injury right now. However, Cassian only saw him land, not the fall itself.

Tivik took a breath and tried again. He shuffled his feet around under him and took a hold of Cassian’s arms. They lifted him up on his one leg and cautiously he put some weight on his other. Tivik flinched the leg back up again. ‘Yes, it’s definitely broken,’ he said, pained.

Suddenly remembering their surroundings, Cassian glanced back down the street. People were staring, watching them, and moving away but no screaming to signal the coming Stormtroopers. Perhaps they could have lost them, but Cassian didn’t want to think it. ‘They’re coming,’ he said, ‘we need to go.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Tivik exclaimed, fist tight around Cassian’s jacket it to stop him moving away. ‘I can’t run now!’

Cassian searched the street again and, unfortunately, this time he did clock the tiny signs that they were still being pursued by Stormtroopers. He glanced up to the tops of the buildings, and from the sound of it they wouldn’t be long. He knew what needed to be done.

Cassian laid his hand over Tivik’s on his jacket and crowded up against him to sync their breathing. That thought ran through his head again that he only ever got this close to people when he either made love to them or ended their life. ‘Look, hey, hey,’ Tivik looked to the ground to calm himself and Cassian brought his blaster up against his back. ‘It’s going to be alright,’ he said and pulled the trigger.

A flash of red and Tivik crumbled to the ground.

Cassian braced himself. The numbness washed over his hand this time and he made sure not to drop his blaster. He took a step back from Tivik’s body, unable to look at it, then another, and shivered as the cold chill crept up his spine, like sticking syrup being poured upside down. Tivik needed to die because they needed to run and he couldn’t let Tivik’s knowledge fall into enemy hands. The First Order couldn’t know that they now knew. Nonetheless, the shame shifted through him and it took effort to digest. He swallowed, and when the relief gradually happened, he noted it didn’t feel as bad that time. Maybe because he hadn’t know Tivik more than a few days as he travelled to see him and only met him once now before his death.

A blink of red and Cassian quickly regained his awareness to the present ...and also to the dirty looks from the surrounding people on the street, killing in public always left a nasty taste in his mouth. He ignored them and bolted for his escape.

Cassian found K-2SO waiting in his truck at the designated rendezvous point. He didn’t say a word as he pulled off his jacket and opened the back door to put it on the seat, for want of the cool breeze on his skin after having built up quite a sweat. Although, he wasn’t sure from what.

Getting into the front driver’s seat, K-2SO turned to look at him and he could feel him scanning him with those wide, bright eyes.

‘Where is Agent Tivik?’ he said after a moment.

Cassian almost didn’t speak. But eventually he said, ‘didn’t make it,’ to the steering wheel. Like the times before, K-2SO never questioned further. Cassian started the engine and drove them back to base.

They returned to the pub resting on a quiet street. The lights were off at this early an hour, but a few of the houses further down glowed in the late morning purple hue. Cassian knew General Draven would be unlikely to have gone to bed; amongst other things, those rumours about him never sleeping rang true.

He parked the van deep into the side alleyway and killed the engine. For a moment, they both sat in the suffocating silence and a spontaneous part of Cassian wanted to confess everything in a dramatic display of emotion and tears. But he restrained himself because that went against his duty, cleared his throat, and opened the truck door. He got out and K-2SO soon followed behind.

They parted once back inside the building, with Cassian disappearing off to give his report before K-2SO could protest and use the dark circles under his eyes in evidence that he needed rest first. He needed to just get this done.

He’d predicted correctly and General Draven remained awake in his office. His light being the only one switched on in that entire section of the building, shining out of the only open door. The large metal slab had been slid closed over the entrance to the glowing colours of their strategy room, which meant they planned to use it soon. Cassian approached Draven’s office slowly and found Draven inside, sat behind his desk and buried in record work. A group of Agents had returned within the last week or so and then been, by the request of Luke Skywalker himself, immediately whisked off to another Rebellion base across the country, leaving Draven, as their higher command, to fill out their mission reports and logs on his own.

This reminded Cassian, he’d be doing his own mission report and log the very next day.

Cassian bit his lip and thought for a second about disturbing him. The General tended to become very cranky when left to do someone else’s work. But that decision got taken away when Draven noticed his presence of his own accord.

‘Captain Andor,’ he said, fighting a tired exhale. He raised his hand and flicked it from the wrist towards his head, ‘come in.’

Cassian stepped inside. ‘Thank you, General,’ he said and took his place before the desk with hands together behind his back.

Draven kept his eyes down on the many datapads set across the table. The mission records had to be done by the people actually went on the mission, but things such as the mission objective, the overall time period, the location and transcripts of mission updates could be completed by any outside source with a datapad and working hands.

Cassian could feel sorry for Draven. But he also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if he hadn’t taken K-2SO on his current mission with him, Draven would have made K-2SO do it all instead. K-2SO may have been conditioned to think like a droid at one point in his life, but that wouldn’t ever make him one. He was his own man first, and it angered Cassian when he seemed to be the only one to think that.

Since Draven appeared very pre-occupied, Cassian kept his debriefing short and to the point. After all, his mission only confirmed what they had been speculating over for the past year. They’d expected it to be true.

So why could Cassian still barely believe it? The First Order were really a breath’s away from having at their hands a weapon, which could kill whole cities of people. Millions could die from the push of a few buttons, while they remained safely out of range.

‘And what of Agent Tivik?’ Draven’s words cut through Cassian’s micro-panic of the mind.

Cassian squared his shoulders and said it how it had happened, he owed Don Tivik that much, ‘when I arrived he had a broken arm and during the attack, he damaged his ankle as well. So I made the call to prevent his life from falling into First Order hands. His death was brisk and dignified.’

‘Extract that last point, Cassian,’ Draven said, flicking his hand in a dismissive gesture, and Cassian blinked. ‘Tivik died in action by the hands of the enemy,’ he said.

No. He _needed_ to take responsibility for this, he needed to clear his Conscience and— ‘But, sir, I—’

‘It _is_ better for morale. Do I make myself clear?’ Draven looked up from his work. His firm eyes pierced through Cassian with that authoritative stare he always managed to harbour. ‘He was killed by a group of First Order Stormtroopers.’

Cassian bit his tongue and forced his voice to be level. ‘Yes, General,’ he said.

Draven nodded firmly, satisfied with the answer. ‘If your report is finished, you are dismissed, Captain.’ His head already back down again and lost in record work. ‘You’re next mission won’t be for another few days and we’re still arranging out the shortcomings at this time.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Cassian said quietly and so left it at that. He exited Draven’s office and headed straight to the kitchens because he didn’t care if it was too early for some breakfast.

He found K-2SO there, sat by a table on his own and without food in the adjacent mess hall. Clearly he’d been waiting for Cassian to show up, knowing he would eat something before he slept for the next two days. Their mission had kept them on the road for almost the previous month and a half this time, searching throughout the nearby cities to catch up on all their inside operatives for any news about the First Order’s secret weapon. The last update from Tivik being the most conclusive.

Cassian picked together a small meal. A sandwich of the leftover slimy pork and slices of old cheese, a branch of grapes, and one cold glass bottle of beer from the section at the bottom of the fridge. He didn’t get anything for his friend since he knew K-2SO would feed himself after his own rest and he never wished to break that cycle.

Once sat down, Cassian opened the bottle on K-2SO’s arm joint because he knew he would hate that. Slowly K-2SO shot a displeased expression down at him and Cassian couldn’t help but give a half-smile back up at him.

‘The sunrise should be coming up in a few minutes,’ he said, now shifting his metal limbs in the silent mess hall.

Cassian’s hand paused mid-motion with the sandwich almost to his teeth. ‘Want to go watch it?’ he asked and moved the hand back down.

K-2SO nodded, ‘I would,’ he said.

Cassian picked up his plate and stood with K-2SO. They made their way to the roof. At this time in the morning, any of the higher ups currently residing here would be asleep, so no one was likely to catch them and report their unprofessional behaviour, since the roof often stayed as off limits. Plus they were rebels, after all, that often came with the internalisation of rule breaking.

K-2SO put his metal hands around Cassian’s waist and effortlessly lifted him up into the ceiling window. Cassian put his plate down at the side and clambered through the whole. Once up, he stood back and watched K-2SO lift himself through in one smooth motion.

They settled at the roof’s edge, even opting to dangle their legs over it like school children. Cassian ate his sandwich and they shared the beer.

There was already a pinkish glow to the sky and in no time at all, gold spread out across the scene, following in a sea of orange and red. Slowly but surely, the tip of the tiny yellow penny appeared in the distance and rose from the horizon.

‘Why do we find sunrises pleasing?’ K-2SO said.

Cassian shrugged and bit down on a good piece of his sandwich. The creamy old cheese mixed with the salty pork and his stomach sung. ‘I don’t know. Human nature,’ he suggested.

K-2SO’s head shot towards him. ‘We cannot all be born with a collective thought to enjoy the same content.’

‘Fine then,’ Cassian said, so sudden he grumbled that out with a mouth full of food. He swallowed before continuing, ‘it’s social nurture,’ he said, gesturing forward. ‘We all feel the same emotions but we teach each other what they mean. Like happy, sad, anger, hope.’ He made a face to accommodate each emotion, except for the last one since he wasn’t sure what to do for that.

‘Hope is nonsense,’ K-2SO said, dismissive in an instant.

Cassian respected why he would feel this way. During his time in the First Order, K-2SO had the hope beaten and conditioned out of him, planted with artificial limbs for the First Order’s purposes only that he was even meant to be grateful of. He became sub-human, which was why Cassian made a vow to himself to never give up on helping him, to make him believe in hope again. ‘Rebellions are built on hope, K2,’ he said, matter of fact.

‘Ah, yes,’ and K-2SO did nod at least, ‘but results are built on labour. You have to put action to words to get something out of anything. You cannot simply stand around and _feel_.’

‘I know.’ Cassian took another bite of his sandwich and gulped down some beer to help it along. ‘But the feeling can be used to motivate people,’ he said, ‘to keep them going when nothing else will. Hope can do that.’

The second he put the bottle down, K-2SO picked it up. ‘This is true,’ he said, after a hefty swig; he made a face from the taste. ‘Us humans are strange creatures.’

‘That we are, my friend.’

After a few more minutes of watching the sun emerge into the sky and K-2SO said, ‘I am going to rest now.’ He swung his legs back over the edge and Cassian heard those metal legs extend behind him. ‘I will see you soon after, Cassian,’ he said.

But K-2SO didn’t leave just yet and gently he reached down to place his hand over Cassian’s shoulder. ‘Please, watch out for yourself,’ he said, voice more pained than sincere.

Cassian appreciated the gesture, although didn’t twist round. Instead, he glanced down at the hand. ‘I will try,’ he said and patted it with his own. ‘You too.’

K-2SO’s walking disappeared off towards the roof exit.

Cassian chose to stay for awhile longer, right until the whole circle of yellow light had sprouted up from the ground. Sleep tended to elude him these days, which he understood exactly why, and it would be more likely to do with the sun already risen. Instead, he watched the city slowly awaken, all the small lights flickering on here and there, the little dings and rings of bicycle bells and shop doors opening. It helped Cassian, sometimes, to take a seat back for a moment and watch the world just exist and spin and turn, the way he fought so hard for. These people and so many cities beyond that deserved the peace and freedom he pushed towards.

What would this new super weapon bring into that mix? And what did the First Order even want it for? He knew in his heart they wouldn’t gain anything positive from attacking their own cities, and yet he didn’t trust them regardless. It remained a simple fact: everyone would be a lot safer if this mysterious super weapon just hadn’t been made to begin with.

Cassian left the roof. After having to hang there while he rearranged the lid back into place, his legs fizzed as he landed back down from the ceiling window. He shook the feeling off and made his way back to his sleeping quarters.

The plate disappeared along the way and Cassian stumbled into his room, stripping off immediately and jumping into the refresher. He turned the temperature right up to let the water burn into his skin until it glowed red and raw. The heat gave him comfort and softened his tight muscles, which would possibly help to grant him some sleep. He washed through his hair and body, pausing to watch the lathery bubbles be swallowed down the plug hole.

Drying off, he threw on some sweat pants and a vest and then stood before his bed. The last thing left to do now was to pull off the covers and climb inside. But his legs and arms failed to work.

He didn’t know how long he stared at the stretched thin sheets and undisturbed pillows, interrupted only by a knock at the door.

Cassian forced himself out of that condition of physical shut down where everything slowly switched off, bar his brain, and tried to push his legs on towards the door.

Failing, he called out, ‘come in,’ and glanced over to find a young woman behind it. Had he not been in such a state he would have noticed her blushing under dark brown skin from the memory of a night they’d shared together. He wasn’t a person to keep something like that to just one energetic evening, if asked again. But she hadn’t asked again and so Cassian respected her decision.

‘Captain Andor,’ she said, beaming with a smile which always made his mood become a little smoother, ‘General Draven has made a list of operatives for your next mission. He’s requested you look over it immediately.’ Even though he knew nothing of what they would be doing, he could still check for any ones, in his opinion, both healthy enough for an outside operation and that he got on well with.

Cassian nodded, feeling his voice would fail him, but somehow now managed to walk over and take the datapad. He looked over the list and, within his capacity, everything appeared to be in order. Except one name at the bottom.

 _Brae Tivik_.

It took him a good second to recognise who that could be. Could it be Don Tivik’s sister? Certainly so, since Cassian made it a job to memorise the names and faces he meant throughout the whole Rebellion network.

This woman would be totally unaware she was about to go on a mission with her brother’s killer. A sickly feeling shot straight through Cassian’s gut and it would not have surprised him if he did in fact throw up. His eyes darted up from the screen to see the woman gone and the door reclosed without his notice. Back into his room, he pried the datapad from one shaking hand and managed to let go with the other. It dropped down somewhere he cared not.

He rushed to the refresher and splashed his face with cold water. However, it meant he ended up face-to-face with his own reflection. Cassian looked into his eyes and only saw Tivik’s death, replaying over and over again.

He turned away and closed his eyes to focus on his breathing. Practically ripping his clothes back off, he switched on the shower, but flicked the temperature to cold this time. Under the stream, he let the cold liquid run down his bare skin, hoping perhaps it could wash away this disgusting sensation floating in his belly.

If the Force meant for you to be exactly where you were supposed to, it had a funny way of showing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roll credits....
> 
> I've got it into my head that this chapter is utterly terrible, especially considering this only has 4 kudos, but that's just another installment in the saga that is my terrible writing skills :3
> 
> onto Chirrut and Baze in next chapter; it's gonna be a long one so that may take a while. Let me know how well I've done Cassian or how terribly *cries*

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://yellowhalcyon.tumblr.com/)


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